In the midst of a very bad day, shortly after losing her job, a young British
woman also barely misses her train home. That wouldn't normally be much of a
problem, given the frequency of trains in the London tube, but on this day she
encounters a huge delay when a breakdown forces her to grab a cab on the
street. She's mugged and ends up in the hospital. What if things had gone a
little differently? What if that child hadn't gotten in her way as she was
running through the subway station? Well, in that case, she would have squeezed
aboard her normal ride and gotten home just in time to find her live-in
boyfriend writhing in the arms of another woman. So begins Peter Howitt's
exquisitely well-made Sliding Doors, about as deeply satisfying a movie
as cinema can produce.

Luscious Gwyneth Paltrow (nailing the British accent) stars in Sliding Doors
as Helen, a stylish PR executive who is so good at her job that her jealous
male bosses concoct a pretense to lay her off rather than let her show them up.
Helen is in love with Jerry (John Lynch), the wannabe novelist with whom she
lives and whose struggling literary career she happily finances. The problem is
that Jerry is a neurotic scoundrel who has never been able to break off his
relationship with a previous girlfriend, a London-based American promotional
executive named Lydia (Jeanne Tripplehorn). In the main line of Helen's life,
it takes a while for Jerry's failings to come clearly to light. But in that
alternate reality, Helen loses her job and Jerry all in one day. The agony is
horrible, but she soon finds solace in the attentions of another bloke, a
charming businessman and sportsman named James (John Hannah).

IN ONE OF HER "LIVES," HELEN (GWYNETH PALTROW) LOSES HER JOB BUT FINDS
HAPPINESS WITH ENGLISHMAN JAMES (JOHN HANNAH).

Howitt's basic premise is nothing short of nifty, and his execution is a
marvel. He quickly and artfully devises ways for us to tell which life we're in
as he cuts back and forth between the Helen who catches the train and the Helen
who misses it. In the early going, one Helen has a bandage on her face from her
encounter with the mugger, while the other wears just the sad countenance of a
woman done wrong. Later, when the injured Helen's wound has healed, the
alternative Helen, wanting to break out of the funk of joblessness and a broken
heart, opts for a radical new haircut. Thereafter, we follow as Helen No. 1 is
reduced to waiting tables while Jerry fabricates long hours of library research
to cover his ongoing trysts with Lydia. Concurrently, Helen No. 2 is beginning
a romance and jump-starting her career by opening her own business. With
terrific skill, Howitt interlaces these two stories, even taking the characters
to the same locations at the same times.

I really can't rave about this picture enough. It is deliciously funny. Jerry
has a sarcastic friend named Russell (Doublas McFerran) who reduces us to
guffaws as he makes fun of Jerry's weak addiction to Lydia's shrewish charms.
And the script develops its characters with terrific skill. Jerry is pretty
much a weasel, but we pity him more than hate him. And though James is only
average-looking, his intelligence and self-deprecating wit make him immensely
appealing. Filmmaker Howitt even manages to deliver a third-act crisis that
proves nicely surprising even if faintly contrived. In the hands of a
less-talented writer, the problems that loom between Helen and James would
require some stupid instance of uncharacteristic behavior. But Howitt
critically refuses to allow his characters to act like nitwits. In the end, he
even finds a surprising way to resolve the vast gap between the two narratives.
And as the credits on Sliding Doors begin to roll, you want to leap up
and yell, "Bravo!"

Mocking Big Business

FILM: The Big OneSTARRING: Michael MooreDIRECTOR: Michael Moore

Michael Moore rocketed to fame in 1989 with his confrontational documentary
Roger & Me, in which the filmmaker tried to meet with General Motors
CEO Roger Smith to explain what automotive production layoffs had done to
Moore's hometown of Flint, Mich. Subsequently, Moore made a television series
called TV Nation and then wrote the best-selling Downsize This, a
humorous but studied attack on corporate irresponsibility and government
collusion. Now Moore is back on the big screen with The Big One, a
documentary about his 47-city author's tour to promote his book. As the
author/filmmaker travels from town to town, he routinely tries to make contact
with working-class people facing the uncertainties of the contemporary American
workplace. And just as routinely, Moore tries to confront those bosses he
thinks are insensitive to their workers' rights and welfare. In this regard,
The Big One is a revisitation of the comedic guerrilla style Moore
invented for Roger & Me.

In his promotional journey across America, Moore visits with laid-off candy
manufacturing workers, explores the government subsidies to the Pillsbury
Corporation, encourages the union activities of Borders Books & Music
employees, makes a series of rousing appearances on college campuses, and
challenges Nike CEO Phil Knight to open a shoe factory in Flint. And whereas
it's altogether fair to observe that we are in the midst of an economic
restructuring far more complicated than Moore is willing to acknowledge, along
the way he does make important points about cruel aspects of contemporary
corporate practice.

Indeed, Americans are enjoying an almost unrivaled era of prosperity with
unemployment at record lows, but all the while, the largest employer in America
is Manpower Incorporated, a supplier of temporary labor. Employee security, in
other words, is not reflected by the low unemployment rates. American
corporations, moreover, have embraced a culture of greed that is
unconscionable. Repeatedly, companies close highly profitable operations on
American soil and relocate manufacturing to Third World countries in pursuit of
even greater profits. Despite record earnings, for instance, the
Milwaukee-based company Johnson Controls relocates its production to Mexico,
where labor can be found for less than one dollar per hour. Meanwhile, at the
same time that national Republicans and Democrats alike combine to "end welfare
as we know it," government subsidies to big business continue unabated. Moore
points out that three times as many government dollars go to corporations as
into welfare programs. And while 20 percent of America's children continue to
live in poverty, with parents under-employed if working at all, companies like
TWA negotiate contracts with penal institutions to use convict labor in their
phone reservation system.

Moore gets The Big One off to a terrific start as he reveals scams he
ran on presidential campaigns during the 1996 primary season. He formed a
series of dummy corporations in order to make campaign contributions. The Satan
Worshipers Society sent a check to Bob Dole, the Hemp Growers Association sent
one to Bill Clinton, Pedophiles for Free Trade made a contribution to Ross
Perot, and Abortionists for Buchanan sent a check to Pat Buchanan. All the
checks were cashed. Throughout, Moore injects his social politics with biting
humor, much of which leads us to laugh out loud. In the final analysis, though,
The Big One manifests a mean streak that's a lot less charming than
Moore presumably thinks. In one sequence, he humiliates an ignorant bookstore
manager; in another, he torments his publisher's publicist by having security
guards accuse her of stalking. Furthermore, the filmmaker seems to be
altogether too pleased with himself. The people Moore discombobulates with his
surprise appearances and ridiculous demands are seldom people of power or
influence, just functionaries trying to hold on to their own jobs. Moore's
making them look stupid and cowardly doesn't put a single unemployed worker
back on the payroll. But just in case we don't realize what a hero Moore is,
the film is rife with fans applauding his every indignant quip. And then, of
course, there's that sensitive moment when he offers a hug to a Ford worker
laid off earlier that day. He's really sorry, he assures her, and he wants her
to know that she's not alone, that corporate America is treating thousands of
other Americans just as badly. Yes, and that alleviates her pain exactly how?

It is disturbing to know that Nike pays Michael Jordan more money annually to
endorse his line of shoes than it pays an entire factory of Indonesian workers
(many girls as young as 14) to make them. It's disgusting to contemplate the
astronomical rise of salaries paid to corporate executives in an era in which
production wages have risen only marginally. And it's astonishing to learn that
Nike CEO Knight has never visited the Indonesian factories where so much of his
wealth is generated. But that hardly means that self-righteous Michael Moore is
entitled to so much self-congratulation. He could be funny without being smug.
And he would prove a lot more appealing if he showed a little more humility.